


Point and Think

by Arien



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alien Planet, F/M, Gen, Sonic Screwdriver
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-05
Updated: 2013-11-05
Packaged: 2017-12-31 13:23:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1032178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arien/pseuds/Arien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Doctor..?"</p><p>"Hmm?"</p><p>"Are they planning on killing us?"</p><p>"Er ... yeah. I'd say so. Yeah. You know what territorial indigenous aquatic non-mermaids are like. Ask them yourself."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Point and Think

**Author's Note:**

  * For [paperclipbitch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperclipbitch/gifts).



> Merry Secret Santa, paperclipbitch! I hope you enjoy this story. It sort of had a life of its own ... it was supposed to be fluffy, I think, and it turned into a bit of an action-adventure thing all by itself. Merry Christmas!
> 
>  
> 
> Set during S6, between 'The Girl Who Waited' and 'The God Complex'.

"The tree's not getting any closer, Amy."

"It's a bit closer!"

"It's as far away as it was when we started! Look, stop walking a second. Amy, stop walking for a second. Amy!"

" _What?!_ " 

Amy wheeled around, glaring daggers at her husband. They were waist-deep in a field of velvety red and purple flowers. The dark green stalks were long and strong, waving gently in the breeze, parting readily for the two humans trying to navigate their way out. They tried not to touch the petals as they walked but it was inevitable that stinging pollen catch to their clothing. They were fortunate to be wearing long sleeves.

"Just - stop, for a second. We need to think about this," Rory reasoned, holding up one hand placatingly. When Amy did not offer new resistance, he took the opportunity to catch his breath and look around.  

The field of flowers stretched endlessly in every direction. They had been making for a great tree in the distance, with gnarled, curling branches. Rory had timed their walk after the first five or so minutes when it didn't look like the tree was coming closer. After another ten he was sure, but Amy wouldn't have it. The tree was not nearer, and the distance was not closing. Overhead, a turquoise sky was decorated with three moons. They hung in shades of silver, one near, two far. It was beautiful ... a beautiful cage.

"I think they chased us in here deliberately," Rory continued, looking back at Amy. "And you're thinking it too. I can tell by the way you're looking at me."

"Maybe it's the planet. Maybe we're not moving fast enough."

"You're talking about how fast it moves on its axis?"

Amy nodded, desperate to find a logical explanation. He could hear the panic behind her words. "Maybe we're just walking fast enough to stay in the one spot. If we run, we might - "

"Amy. That doesn't make any sense." He paused, reached for her. His hand cupped her forehead, then rested on her cheek. In a different, more concerned note he added, "how much of that pollen did you inhale?"

She pushed his hand away and snapped, "As much as you! I don't hear you coming up with any good ideas as to why we're still in the bloody middle!"

"That's better?"

"What's _better_?"

"I'd rather you take my head off than getting hysterical."

She looked away. He could see her, trying valiantly not to smile. "Shut up, I wasn't even."

"Outrunning the turn of the world?"

"Shut up!" She turned on the spot, frustrated. "So what are we supposed to do then? We can't just keep walking. We'll drop dead before we get out."

This had all been the Doctor's fault. Of course. It was, in Rory's reckoning, four days after Apalapucia. Time was a tricky thing to monitor the passing of in a time machine; he measured days by the sleep he and Amy necessitated rather than by dawn and dusk. He was sure they sometimes went one, maybe two Earth days without sleep, but it was the only way he had to keep track. Asking the Doctor was no good. ("It's Friday!" "You said that yesterday." "Did I? Well, today's definitely Friday! Can't you feel it? Lovely, exciting days, Fridays.")

Four days after Apalapucia and the Doctor seemed to think he had a debt to pay. Rory saw that, sometimes. Amy didn't notice, but he did: the more horrible the thing they witnessed, the more extravagant was the next place they went to. He assumed it was the Doctor's version of a bunch of flowers.

And Dairy ("Are there ... cows on Dairy, Doctor?" "Hm? What? No? Why would you ask that? Cows! Thinking about cows at a time like this, Pond, really?" Then the TARDIS had gone into flight and holding on was more important than arguing with him) was a beautiful planet. Small, covered in leafy trees and endless fields of flowers. The bodies of water were all perfectly symmetrical, leading to great caverns beneath the surface. Amy and Rory's first glimpse of it was a slideshow on the monitor.

_"Now those," the Doctor explained, flipping switches, "belong to mermaids-who-must-never-be-called-mermaids."_

_"What, sort of like - that medical ... mermaidy ... siren thing on the pirate ship?"_

_"No! More like," he pirouetted around, using his hands descriptively, "green and ... gilly. Bits of long kelpy flesh hanging off their arms. Big glassy eyes and sharp pointy teeth. Razor-sharp flippers on their forearms. Four of those. Think octopus..."_

_"Right..."_

_"But not really. Anyway! Doesn't matter. You're not going anywhere near them. Dangerous things. Like to lurk under the surface of the water and grab unsuspecting travellers by the feet and pull them in."_

_Amy made a face. "What, and drown them?"_

_"Nobody knows," the Doctor said, making spirit fingers. And then he was shaking fingers in both Rory and Amy's faces. "So under no circumstances do you go near the water, understand! Don't you even put a toe in! Stay away from that, you'll be fine, and we can explore the flower valleys without being bothered."_

_Rory breathed out. "So they can't come on land then?"_

_"Eventually, yes. Process of evolution and tech implants from Balkhurn. But! We're going much earlier, they're safely in the water, the flowers are dying to be seen..."_

_He flung open the doors and took a deep breath of air. Amy and Rory hurried after him, shrugging into their jackets on the way, and stuck their heads out into the fresh, beautiful air of Dairy. The Doctor grinned and threw an arm around their shoulders, walking grandly out into the grass plains._

_They headed in the direction of great streaks of flowers, decorating the valleys like strips of lollies. The grass got thicker, rising around their legs. They saw fewer pools._

_The Doctor suddenly wheeled around, frowning._

_"Doctor?" Rory asked._

_"It's nothing. It's probably nothing. It's quite likely ... nothing ..." he drawled, holding up his index finger to his mouth. He licked the pad and turned anti-clockwise, scowling. "Quite ..." he hesitated, then strode off a few paces in a new direction. "Ah."_

_Amy glanced at her husband. "...Doctor?"_

_He half turned to face them, tapping his forefingers together anxiously. "Remember how I told you about the evolution of the indigenous aquatic people?"_

_Rory closed his eyes._

_"May've ... confused the year a - b-i-i-i-i-t!"_

_The Doctor was jerked backwards as though something had hooked around his ankle and yanked hard. Amy gave a little scream and she darted forward, but it was too late - with a loud splash and a cry of "Wait!" the Doctor was gone._

_Rory started shrugging off his jacket. There was no time to think it through - the Doctor was gone, taken, possibly drowning, and the seconds were slipping away._

_"Rory!"_

_They were surrounded. The creatures were rather like the Doctor had described them, pale and faintly luminous, with breathing apparatus fixed to the centre of their faces. For the most part, they were humanoid, trailing kelp-like appendages instead of hair. There wasn't much time for staring, however. The creatures were closing in. Amy and Rory ran._

"I reckon they're playing with us," Rory said, thinking aloud. "They're trying to wear us out."

Amy was quick to follow his train of thought. "They took the Doctor when he wasn't ready. He was standing closer to the pool than we were."

"Maybe they're not so strong on land. They want to tire us out, then they can take us down there, too."

She was nodding. It was not the definitive explanation, but it was the best they had. It gave them some sense of control. She lowered her voice. "Rory ... do you think maybe they're in the field with us? Waiting?"

"It's... possible."

They turned, looking, trying to see through the flowers this time. Their backs lightly touched. 

"Rory ..."

"We'll find the Doctor, Amy. I promise."

"How did you know - ?"

"I know you."

He felt her hand take his. They squeezed one another's fingers and slowly let go. "He's wired differently from us."

Rory nodded, scanning the flowers. There was no trace of movement. "I asked him about it when he was in a particularly indulgent mood. He's got sort of ... respiratory bypass ... no lungs like us ... I don't think he can breathe underwater, but I bet he can hold his breath for longer than us."

"He can talk his way out of anything," Amy was saying, more to herself, "he'll be fine. Couldn't shut him up even underwater."

He pointed. "Let's just try a different direction, okay? We'll go slow."

Together, they struck out a new way. They were no longer heading toward the sprawling, distant tree. All of the flowers, Rory realised, where exactly the same height. The colours ran together, mottled and dark to the point of being black like bruises, then easing out into the brighter spectrum of reds and purples. The beauty began to feel nauseating. 

"Oh!"

Amy's arms wrapped around his waist and pulled Rory back in the nick of time. The field was no longer comprised solely of flowers. He had almost fallen into one of the perfectly round pools. 

The surface was still. It reflected the moons in the sky like a flawless looking glass. Rory's gaze could not penetrate the surface. 

"Thanks."

"Look." Amy unwound one arm from his waist and pointed. 

Flower stems growing around the edge of the pool were noticeably darker than the others they had seen. Rory approached cautiously.

"Rory, careful," Amy warned, holding a fistful of his jacket at his back.

"I am," he answered with an edge of annoyance. Carefully, he touched the stems. "They're wet." He looked at her and straightened up, stepping away from the water. "I don't think we have to guess if we're alone anymore...."

"Let's get away from the water," Amy was pulling him back, glancing nervously around. "I'm not losing you to another cranky siren."

"They're not sirens, the Doctor said they're mer - "

"Yeah! And he also said not to call them that! He said ... indigenous aquatic thingys." 

They skirted around the edge of the pool. Its presence made Rory uneasy - water, and the dangerous merpeople, were far closer than he had hoped. But it was also a change to a repetitive field, and that seemed to break a spell.

"I've got a plan," Amy said, subconsciously sounding a lot like the Doctor. "We're going into the pool."

"Can't breathe underwater, Amy."

"I know. First we go back to the TARDIS, and we find something there. She'll help us. Then we come back, and you go down after the Doctor."

"Me?"

"I can't swim."

"Can't really swim either, in case you've forgotten..."

"Well, have you got any better ideas?"

"Look," Rory answered shortly. Getting into an argument here was just plain stupid. He reached for patience. "Half your idea's good. We get back to the TARDIS. And then we find something that doesn't involve deep-sea diving."

"We could let them take us," Amy suggested, clearly on a roll. "I bet they'd take us right to where the Doctor is."

"Yeah, brilliant if he's buried beneath a big pile of kelp."

"Doesn't kelp float?'

"Not helping, Amy."

"Fine. Let's just ... find the TARDIS, and we'll take it from there."

"Good."

"I still think we should let them - "

"Amy, that's about as bright as your idea of outrunning the planet."

"Oh just drop it!" She snapped.

Amy's temper was always quick to surface. Rory, having always been so close to her, often bore the brunt of it. He was very good at telling when he was wearing it because he was present, and when it was for him specifically. Nobody, however, got Amy's temper riled quite the same way the Doctor did. 

But he couldn't worry about it _now._ They began moving again, retracing their footsteps. They looked for broken stems or bent flowers, anything that might suggest the way they had come, but the flowers stood as proud and straight as though two humans had never blundered through. Their frustration rose faster this time.

"It isn't working," said Amy. She paused and looked over her shoulder. "This time the tree's no further away. Let's just ... rest a minute."

She sat down amongst the flowers. They were thick enough that they would be concealed from view, even if somebody was only a few meters away. Rory gave a final glance around them before squatting beside Amy, who sat with her legs crossed, picking at her nail polish. It was a difficult risk to balance. On one hand they could do with a rest - they'd been walking a long time. But on the other, this position made them vulnerable to attack.

"We should rest in shifts," Rory reasoned. In times like this it was second nature to open that door in his mind, reach in for Roman training. "If you want, you have a rest first, and I'll stand up and keep guard. It's too easy for them to sneak up on us like this."

Amy started to nod - then frowned. She appeared to be listening and Rory, thinking she was hearing something approach, immediately stood and glanced around. 

"Can you hear that?" 

"I can't - ssh."

"No, not up there! Here." Amy swiveled and pressed her ear against the ground. Long, red hair pooled amongst the stalks. "It's like a motor. Come down here."

Frowning, not liking this at all, Rory went down too. He moved on to his hands and knees and lowered his head. "I - Amy, that sounds like a motor."

"Clever. So do you think maybe my idea of the ground moving beneath our feet wasn't so crazy after all?"

"What, you think like ... we've been on some sort of flowery treadmill?"

"That's exactly what I mean. It's not magic. All those pools. And they're more advanced than the Doctor expected. He said they get tech implants. Why wouldn't they use them on their own world?" She had an excited gleam in her eye now that she felt she was making sense of it.

And it was insane. Rory leaned down for another listen. It was completely bonkers; but in traveling with the Doctor he had seen crazier things. A world with treadmill flower valleys to exhaust and ensnare prey? Why not. It was no madder than fish from space.

Rory stood as he heard the unmistakable rustle of foliage. A second later and Amy was on her feet, too. They stood back-to-back, turning on the spot. The indigenous lifeforms surrounded them, glimpsed now and again through the flowers, closing ranks. Rory felt behind him for Amy's hand and brushed her fingers.

"We stopped. They must think we're finished," Rory said, hardly daring to raise his voice. "They won't be expecting us to run."

Her hand tightened around his. "Rory, there's nowhere _to_ run. They're still turning it."

"But they can't turn it in two different directions," Rory murmured. 

"Split up?"

He didn't like that idea. Not one bit, not at all, but it was the only one that made any sense. As long as they ran in the same direction the tech could compensate. But if they went different ways... it was a stretch, but he imagined what it was like turning around on an exercise treadmill. One of them _had_ to fall off. The other would be stuck.

The choice was easy. Rory pivoted so that Amy was facing the direction they'd been heading in, toward the TARDIS. With any luck, if he broke first, the treadmill would work against him. Amy, running in the other direction, would be pushed out.

"On the count of three, hey?"

There wasn't time to talk it through. "Don't let them catch you," Amy said.

"Won't. One."

"I love you."

"Two."

He felt her tense behind him, pulse, and release his hand. Before he could say 'three' Rory ran, hoping to trigger movement at his feet. He heard Amy cry out and start running in her direction. When he looked over his shoulder a second later there was no sign of her. Rory swung back just in time to see a blur of movement before him.

And then everything went dark.

 

 

The Doctor shivered. He was saturated to the skin and the cell was cold and damp, giving him no opportunity to dry out. Movement was crucial to prevent cramping up. He paced, rubbing his arms, irritation rising. 

The Phynnodderees were, very unfortunately, more advanced than the Doctor had bargained for. And far more territorial. They didn't need to be so aggressive, he thought bitterly, they weren't _doing_ anything. And they hadn't given him an opportunity to explain anything. 

They were quick, he had to give them that. One second he'd been on the surface and next he was plummeting into the deep, the circle of light to the surface growing smaller and dimmer. The Phynnodderee holding his ankle took him so fast that his vision became clouded with tiny bubbles. The force of his descent made it impossible to think of struggling. He fervently hoped the speed would not snap any bones.

Then he was jerked this way and that, sometimes travelling up and sometimes sideways, until anyone else would've lost all sense of direction. Not the Doctor, though their attempt to disorient him was quite impressive. And then, unexpectedly, they released him and swam away.

He floundered underwater, confused and approaching something like panic. The Doctor couldn't understand why they had left him, until he realised there was light shimmering through the water above. The surface. The Doctor swam up, breaking to the surface, gasping. They had deposited him in a small cave, pocketed with breathable air. There was a craggy, lichen-covered ledge on the side. It was perhaps seven meters long and two meters at its widest point. And that was where he had been stranded for the last two hours and forty-seven minutes.

From its perch on a craggy outcrop, his sonic lit up and gave a little buzz.

"A-ha! Finally!" The Doctor twisted and pounced on it, finally distracted from his frustration, fear for Amy and Rory and, of course, boredom. He flipped it in the air and kissed it. The sonic had been waterlogged when he'd first tried to use it. Now, it had managed to dry out where his clothes wouldn't, and it was ready for him.

The Doctor pointed it at the damp rock, scanning. Frowning. 

"Interesting," he murmured, his voice bouncing back at him off the walls, "and slightly ... worrying."

There was a sudden splash in the inky pool. He wheeled, tucking the sonic away. A figure broke to the surface, gasping and splashing.

"Rory!"

The Doctor threw himself down and stretched out his arms. Rory disappeared beneath the surface.

"No, no no no, _Rory!_ "

He peeled off his jacket and, without a second of hesitation, dived into the water. He could just see Rory's shape floundering beneath the surface and swam to him, hooking one arm underneath his. The Doctor kicked his legs hard and propelled them both up, thrusting Rory into the air. The man gasped air into cramping, starving lungs as the Doctor managed to haul them to the edge. 

"Rory! You made it!" He gave him a big, wet kiss. The journey down had been rough on the Doctor, it was plain, extraordinary luck that Rory had survived it. "You're all right! Come on. Up here, lots of room!"

It was tough work, dragging them both out. Their clothes were soaked, streaming water. Rory's muscles were still refusing to help and the Doctor was forced to do most of the work, heaving them both on to the cold, unyielding rock. He laughed breathlessly, patting Rory's shoulder.

"Doctor," Rory gasped. He rolled on to his side, coughing. "Doctor, what is this place?"

"Phynnodderee prison. Not so bad as far as prisons go. Bit cold. Not very suitable for non-aquatic creatures, however, nearly kills you getting down here. Could do with a window. Window'd be nice. And maybe you know, some comfy chairs..." The Doctor suddenly hesitated, frowned and looked around. "Where's Amy?"

"Still up there. The ground was moving under us, we went different ways - "

"Yes. Planet's constructed of a liquid core, they're harnessing the heat at the centre to power reciprocating engines and manipulate the outer crust's fluid tectonic plates. Makes the planet unstable, wouldn't recommend it, but they seem happy turning the world into one big exercise machine. You and Pond, though, _smart!_ " He grinned and ruffled Rory's wet hair, using his head as a lever to push himself to his feet. "What happened, you realised things weren't getting closer?"

"Uh, yeah."

"So you go different ways, their engines can't cope because they're not omnidirectional, and Amy gets kicked off. Probably a nasty fall, that. Like getting chucked out a window."

"She was going back for the TARDIS," Rory explained. 

The Doctor pulled out his sonic and gave it a fond toss in the air. "Good. Can signal her with this once she's in there." He crouched beside Rory.

"And then what?"

"You know ... I have absolutely no idea, but I'm sure a plan will come to me. Thing in progress." He fiddled with the end of the sonic. 

Rory removed his shirt and wrung it out, shivering. "Doctor..?"

"Hmm?"

"Are they planning on killing us?"

"Er ... yeah. I'd say so. Yeah. You know what territorial indigenous aquatic non-mermaids are like. Ask them yourself." He nodded to the rippling water Heads and shoulders of the Phynnodderees broke through and sailed toward them.

 

 

Amy screamed until she hit the ground. Hard. She lay, stunned for a second or two. Then she braced her palms on the ground and groaned, lifting her upper half. She spat out grass.

"Oww," she groaned, carefully twisting over. Nothing seemed to be broken. She spat out more grass and looked at the field of flowers, swaying innocently in the breeze. _Rory._ She scrambled to her feet. He'd run early. Amy was barely able to keep her feet as the field streaked past and she was launched, as though from a springboard, out of the flowers. 

There was no sign of angry locals or Rory.

Amy stared for a few seconds longer and then turned, breaking into a run. The TARDIS. She didn't know what she was going to do when she got there, but it was her only hope of finding some help. Amy was relieved to find scenery slipping past her as she ran. She was making progress here. It wasn't long before the beautiful blue box loomed up before her; Amy broke through the long, thick grass and threw herself inside. 

"Doctor?" 

It was a long shot, but Amy hoped against hope that he might be waiting for her inside. She walked forward, peering around the console and time rotor, but there was no sign of the Doctor. 

"Okay. Think," she kept her head by talking aloud, "you're in the TARDIS. There's everything you could possibly need in here ... but I don't know ..."

She approached the console, sucking on her lower lip. She was thinking of Idris, of the TARDIS stuffed inside a human form, how she had spoken. It was the first time Amy had fully appreciated that the TARDIS was a thinking, existing, organic being. Oh, she'd always _known_ , but that was when she _understood._

"Okay, um, wondering if you can hear me ..." Amy tried, enormously grateful that she was on her own and nobody could hear her potentially talking to herself. "It's just that, the Doctor, he's ... I don't know where he is. I need your help."

Nothing.

"Oh come on," Amy gripped the edge of the console. "I know you can sort of hear things and -" 

Sense things. Amy thought again of that day with House.. She didn't like to remember that day very often. He had found her deepest fears, needled them, gotten under her skin. Nothing she had experienced with the Doctor had gotten close to that terror. Rory's scrawl on the walls, the way he had screamed at her, lunged for her ... Amy hated to admit it, but she'd woken with a jolt more than a few nights after that. She fiercely pushed past those fears to focus her attention elsewhere. The TARDIS had given them a password, and how did they use the password to open the door?

She closed her eyes and pressed her fingers to her temples, forcing herself to concentrate. Amy thought of everything that had happened since they'd arrived on this ridiculous, flowery planet. It had worked when she thought at the door; she hoped it would work thinking her memories at the TARDIS.

But when Amy finished and opened her eyes, nothing had changed. 

"Seriously, nothing?"

And then the monitor lit up at her shoulder. Amy looked up as it crackled with static and two very familiar words flashed across it.

_Hello, Pond!_

"Doctor?!" She grabbed the screen and pulled it closer. When nothing else happened, she gave it a little shake. "Hey! That can't be it! Oh come on! Doctor!"

The monitor crackled again. The words disappeared, and a couple of seconds later a serene, grassy image appeared. She was being shown what was happening immediately outside of the TARDIS. As she watched, a handful of the indigenous non-mermaids came into view, looking as damp and slimy as ever. But in their webbed hands were two very familiar, very wet hostages.

Amy grabbed the monitor a little tighter and leaned forward. 

"Where's your shirt?" Amy asked Rory's image. The Doctor managed to be fully-dressed.

She got a shock when Rory answered her. He first started looking in one direction, but part way through the Doctor nodded his head enough to get Rory looking a different way, so he was gazing almost directly into the camera. "I took it off to wring it out, all right? Is that seriously the first question that popped into your head?"

"Well, you're half naked." Amy clapped her hand over her mouth, glanced from side to side. She slowly pulled it away. "Wait, how come you can hear me?"

"TARDIS has turned on the microphone, I expect, use your imagination, Pond!"

Amy scowled. She leaned slightly back. "Can you see me?"

"No. And whatever you do, Amy, no matter what happens, you stay where you are. Do you understand me! You stay inside the TARDIS, understand me?"

"Okay okay, I get it! Staying in the TARDIS."

Amy stared at the image for a second, then looked over at the door. They were just there, just on the other side. If they could distract the creatures somehow, just for a second, Rory and the Doctor would be able to break free and make a run for it. They were only a few metres from the door. It was nothing, really ... but the TARDIS was a peaceful, non-combative ship. She looked down at the controls. If there were any secret security alarms she could trigger to frighten them off then she didn't see them. She gave a frustrated little huff. If the bloody Doctor had ever taken the time to show her a few things then she'd be able to sort them out ... 

"Now Amy," the Doctor said tensely, drawing her attention back to the monitor. "The Phynnodderees are a very ... er, provincial lot. They can gather impressions and surface emotions, but not strictly communicate with us in a way you could understand."

"Oh thanks very much," Amy rolled her eyes.

The Doctor chose to ignore that. He was gesticulating with his hands as best as he could when his upper arms were restrained. "They want us gone, but they also want to make an example of us so other people don't come trespassing ..."

Amy frowned suspiciously. That didn't sound good. "What kind of example?"

"They'll let one of us go. The other ... they either want to leave to rot in their underwater prisons or sacrifice to their water god, I'm not sure, it's a little tricky to make out. Impressions and all that, but I'm pretty sure it's one of those two."

"Well that's not good!" Amy cried. "That's useless!"

"And one other thing, Pond?"

"...what?"

"They want you to decide."

 

 

Rory and the Doctor slowly looked at one another. The Phynnodderees' webbed hands were painfully cold against Rory's bare upper arms, and surprisingly strong. Amy's voice came over the mic, sounding irritated as though this was a great inconvenience and not a matter of life and death.

"Are you serious? Haven't we done this already?"

The Phynnodderees began walking backwards, lengthening the distance between themselves and the TARDIS. They forced Rory and the Doctor with them. Rory could feel something uncomfortable in his jeans pocket poking into his leg as they moved, but he could not move his hands to do anything about it. It was his phone, probably: though he thought he'd left that on the TARDIS.

"You need to come to the door but don't come out, don't even put a foot out - and point at the one you want."

"Are we seriously doing this? Doctor!"

A high, warbling, snickering sound built up around them. Rory glanced around. _Impressions_. He went with his first one.

"Doctor, are they - ?"

"Laughing, yes," the Doctor said, sparing him a quick glance. "They're laughing. They think this is going to be difficult for Amy. They think it's going to be fun, making her choose."

Right on cue, Amy yanked open the TARDIS doors. She pointed, unmistakably, at Rory. "Him."

The laughter abruptly stopped. 

"What, did I spoil your fun? Him. Give him over." She glanced at the Doctor, who gave her an encouraging little nod. 

Rory felt the hands at his upper arms release. A hard shove in the centre of his back sent him on his way and, blessedly, he managed to keep his feet. Amy kept her arm stretched out, not daring to put a foot outside of the TARDIS as the Doctor instructed, until Rory's hand found hers. Amy pulled him inside but her eyes were still on the Doctor.

"It's all right, Pond."

"It's not all right."

"I'll be fine," he told her firmly. "Point and think, remember."

"What - ?" Amy gave a shriek as a Phynnodderee suddenly appeared before them, blocking her view to the Doctor. It made a grab for the door, which Rory managed to slam just just in time. Amy ran to the monitor.

"You got his fingers. Look."

The Phynnodderee was waving its hand in the air, hissing painfully and stalking before the TARDIS. Amy clutched the monitor, watching the creatures dragging the Doctor away. They disappeared out of the camera's range.

"What did he mean, 'point and think?'"

"I dunno. It sounds like ... I dunno. Sounds like something with his sonic, but he's got that..."

Amy whipped her head toward him. She spoke softly, quickly, working it out. "He knew I'd choose you. _Impressions_ , he said, he could've known for ages what they wanted. And he would've known I'd choose you. Even if it made more sense to pick him."

"Ohh, thanks."

"You know what I mean! To fly the TARDIS! We can't fly the TARDIS. So what would he do? 'Point and think?' Knowing that it would be you and me here ... what's that in your pocket?"

Rory followed her gaze down. Slowly, he became aware of that big lump in his pocket once more, the shape that had been annoyingly sticking into his thigh. Rory pulled it out. "It's the Doctor's screwdriver. He must've slipped it in there when we were in the cave ... But how is this going to help us find him? We don't know the coordinates of where they've taken him ..."

"Give it to me." Amy grabbed it from Rory's hand and looked it over. "The end's missing. He sabotagued it."

"Why would he do that?"

"He told me! Remember, when he said Santa gave him a new sonic because his other one got chomped up by that shark? Christmas? Our honeymoon?"

"Yeah ..."

"He said it's got a homing device. The two pieces will try to find each other. I bet ..." 

Fuelled with excitement and hope, Amy faced the console. She took a deep breath and levelled the screwdriver at it. She closed her eyes, imagined sending the homing details to the TARDIS's navigational system. She concentrated impossibly hard, just as she had done when Nephew approached them in the corridors ... and a few seconds later, she was rewarded as the console began making familiar pre-flight noises, the typewriter clacking all on its own.

"It's found him," Rory breathed. He hurried to the console. "Look, the coordinates keep changing. He's moving."

"All right," Amy nodded and took another deep breath, knowing this was going to be even harder. "Point and think he said. Do you think we can fly her by pointing and thinking?"

"Do you mean, do you think we can do it without our brains exploding?"

"Yeah, that."

Rory took her hand. He laced his fingers with hers and gave a brave little nod. "Okay. So we both think - find the Doctor, right? Or find the other bit of the screwdriver? I guess we should be specific if we're both going to do this."

"Think screwdriver," Amy said. "We used that for the coordinates. Okay. Point and .... and think."

She pressed the button. A sparks flew out the broken end of the sonic, sizzling, as Amy and Rory focused all their attention on the console. The sonic hummed and buzzed, but nothing was happening. With great force of will they _pushed_ their intentions forward and suddenly the frequency changed. The TARDIS bounced violently beneath them, throwing them off their feet. They screamed, almost losing contact with their hands and minds.

"Keep thinking about it!" Rory shouted.

The TARDIS gave another violent lurch as their thoughts redirected. It was the most painful ride they'd ever experienced. The ship bounced and threw them, sliding their bodies across the shiny floors until they were pinned underneath the console. Rory dug his fingers into the floor plates to hold on while Amy, groaning with effort, kept the sonic pointed at the console. The TARDIS flipped. Tumbled. Juked and jinxed, spiralling and flinging them away from the console and down the stairs until .... _BANG._

Rory rolled off Amy. They were sandwiched together underneath the glass floors, the console high above them. The TARDIS was humming serenly. Hand shaking, Amy took her finger off the sonic's button.

"Did it work?" She breathed, trying to sit up. She was hopelessly dizzy and battered. Beside her, Rory looked no better.

"I don't know. We stopped."

"Where do you think we are?"

"Only one way to find out." 

Climbing to their feet proved more than a little difficult. Woozy, they wobbled up the stairs, wincing as they discovered there were few parts of their bodies that didn't hurt. The monitor, they quickly discovered, was no longer working. It was completely black. Hesitant, still clutching the sonic screwdriver, they approached the door.

When they pulled it open they discovered the TARDIS was lying on her side, bobbing in water. Whether by luck or orchestration by the TARDIS herself the door was, blessedly, above the water line. 

"Hello, Ponds!"

They looked the other way. The Doctor was standing on the cave ledge, cackling and clapping his hands. He gave them a jaunty salute and then jumped into the water, holding his knees, with a cry of "Geronimo!"

Amy left Rory to drag the Doctor's waterlogged self in while she sat on one of the chairs next to the console, absolutely exhausted. A few minutes (and a lot of bangs, 'ows' and 'watch its!') later, the Doctor squelched over to her.

"Point and think, Pond." He grabbed her shoulders and hauled her to his feet. He gave her a big, wet hug. He smelt of lichen and stagnant water; Amy wrinkled up her nose. "Knew you'd get it."

"You knew I'd choose Rory."

"Course I knew you'd choose Rory," the Doctor answered, shooting Rory a little grin. "You're Amy. Now!" He turned suddenly, running his hands over the console. "What have those mean Ponds done to you, old girl? This isn't Dodgem Cars, they've been reckless, haven't they. First and last time you two get behind the wheel! None of your daughter's finesse, I'll say that! Now go on, get dry!"

"Please no more planets of flowers and indigenous non-mermaids," Amy sighed as Rory took her hand and started tugging her along.

"Hot shower," he muttered with a wistful sigh.

"No! You two, clean yourselves up, I'll fix the damage you've done here - poor old girl, there's no need to be so rough, you know! And then we're going to Ravan-Skala. People there are six hundred feet tall! Talk to them in hot air balloons. The tourist information centre, listen to this, _is in a hat._ Now go on, hurry up, you literally smell like a pond."

"No, Doctor, that's you."

The Doctor rolled his eyes and sniffed his arm. He reeled, making a face. "Okay. Could possibly do with a bit of soap and water myself..."

Amy flipped him the sonic. "Just tell me the Ravan-Skalan people aren't territorial?"

"Weren't you listening? I said they've a _tourist information centre in a hat._ Now does that sound unfriendly to you? Ponds," he added quickly, just as they were about to disappear from view, "... not everybody could do it you know."

They glanced at one another, then back at him.

The Doctor continued, quietly. "Point and think. It's not as easy as it sounds. It takes ... great mental application, far more than untrained humans should be capable of ..."

"What are you saying?" Rory asked.

"I'm saying she likes you," The Doctor smiled a little. "I'm saying ... she's more _receptive_ to you than she would be to anyone else trying to fly her, even holding my sonic."

"Why?"

The Doctor's smile began to grow and he turned on the spot, heading below to gather tools. "I think you can work that one out all on your own! Perhaps we could swing by and pay your daughter a little visit ... don't know about you but I'm starving, and there's an excellent little restaurant right at the end of the universe we could all pay a little visit to...!"

Amy and Rory exchanged a grin and a roll of their eyes and started down the corridor again.

"Oh, Doctor," Rory added, poking his head around the corner. He could just see him underneath the glass floor. "Can we go to a restaurant where all the food is actually edible this time? It sort of takes my appetite away when you're shouting at me to put down every other forkful because it's indigestible for humans."

"Oh, you're no fun!"


End file.
